Looking back
on the moments we had,
all I see now are dead things
and broken people.

I thought they were beautiful,
flowers in full bloom,
until they were picked
and were laid on gravestones.

HERE LIES
     usㅤ

sorry ≠ apology

love can
sometimes
be like a
chain-smoker
with asthma

some spaces
we only                           
fill
                                      for someone
while they're gone

it finally
RAINED in MANILA
the thunderclaps were orchestral
the water splats, a van Gogh
against red tail lights
and windows

and people held their breath
as the first drops of relief
hit their skins
like                                      
  a                      
      lover's
                        ­             kiss

sweet like cherries
long before you knew
how they taste

long like the lines I trace
with my fingers
in the small of your back

warm like your breath
on my neck
just before you wake up
just                                     
before                  
we
                do it
                                  again

do I long for things I don't hold
or is it fate that I don't find 'em
exactly because I long for 'em
                                                             ?